


Hidden

by Musyc



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Epistolary, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21842401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: A letter, found.
Relationships: Phèdre nó Delaunay/Joscelin Verreuil
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Hidden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joy_shines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joy_shines/gifts).



_The committee has examined the document presented, and has taken into account all considerations of provenance. Though Joscelin Verreuil was not known to be a scholar or poet, it is possible that this piece is authentic. The handwriting, though clearly affected by the age of the writer, matches all known examples of his individual script and the parchment is embossed with the symbol of the household shared by him and his consort, Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève. In the absence of other, contradictory evidence, the assessors have determined that the letter is a true specimen of writing from Joscelin Verreuil._

* * *

Phèdre,  
A friend has suggested that perhaps I might be better able to express myself in writing. He is not entirely correct on that matter. I am no poet, no artist able to paint pictures with my words. 

See, there. That is exactly what I mean. Who paints with words? But I promised that I would scratch nothing out, that I would put everything down before I reconsidered anything. He says it is the surest way to get all of my sentiments out of my heart and onto the page. To say it all, and then to select the most evocative words for your perusal.

A romantic notion, certainly, and out of my experience in every way, but I find.

I find.

I find that it is what I want to do. What I desire. And desire is a foreign concept to me, much less love. Yet, here it is, and here I find myself.

A Cassiline who is in love with a courtesan. 

Elua and all his angels must be eternally clinging to each other with laughter, wiping tears from their faces at the jest of it all. I imagine Kushiel himself to be the most amused. What greater torment could there be? A torment for the both of us, to be sure. 

You are an anguisette, a woman who delights in torment. I should not. And yet, I have to assume that I do. What else could have kept me at your side for so long? I love you, Phèdre, never doubt that is the truest statement I could make, but there has been torment. So much of it in our lives. We have been driven apart and we have pulled ourselves apart. And yet, I always return to you.

There are those who would say that I must be drawn solely to your more famous attributes. You are known across the world, after all. Possibly the most famous anguisette in history, eclipsing even Mara herself. 

Perhaps there is some truth in that. There are times when I find myself distracted and aching, my thoughts turning to you. The brush of your soft lips against my cheek, the languid stroke of your hands on my skin. The rapid swelling of your breasts as your breathing quickens. 

Do you know, as long as I have been a warrior, I can still blush? I blush to put thoughts such as those into ink, to script the letters and form the words, but I will not stop myself. I may remove them later, but for now, I follow the instructions I was given. Write down everything, all of my thoughts, all that is in my heart.

I think of you lying beside me, your dark hair spread across the pillow, your eyes closed and lashes resting on your cheek. I think of myself brushing one hand along the top of your shoulder and down the length of your arm, my fingers slipping to rest on your ribs.

Elua, do I dare to put this down? 

I must. Before I cannot write anything at all.

I think of my hand on your waist, your hip, your thigh. I think of the hitch in your breath, how you turn onto your back and arch up into my touch. 

I think of the candlelight shining on your thighs, of the gleam in your eyes as you lift your arms and draw me close. The soft warmth of your stomach, the cradle of your hips, and the heat within you.

I had long thought the sound I treasured most would be something from my home, from childhood perhaps. But not long after we first became lovers, I learned the most treasured sound in all of Terre d'Ange and beyond.

Strong contenders are the quick pant of your breathing, the tiny stifled groans. Even the rustle of your hair as you toss your head on the pillow. But these, while delightful, are not the sound I crave the most when I lie with you.

It is the sound of your voice as you clutch at my shoulders and brokenly whisper my name.

Your breath is hot against my ear, then. Your nails are like daggers on my back. And you quiver and tense, and you are in such turmoil that speech is a struggle for you. My name in your mouth is always a source of pleasure for me but then. At that moment, it is the most glorious, arousing, invigorating sound, and it spurs me onward. I cannot _last_ when you whisper my name.

* * *

_The remainder of the letter has been destroyed. The edges of the parchment indicate that some rodent has chewed away any further words. Additionally, no other copy of this letter has been found, despite the indication in the text that it was intended to be a draft. We cannot know if Joscelin Verreuil would have indeed been more descriptive had he been given the opportunity, but the committee still considers this to be invaluable correspondance, even incomplete._

_The letter will be placed in the Royal Archives, and the recommendation is to make a true copy for each of the following categories: Verreuil, Joscelin; de Montrève, Phèdre nó Delauney; correspondance, City of Elua, Ysandrian era; poetry, romantic; poetry, erotic. The last category may be of some debate, due to the lack of direct eroticism, but taking into account the legendary stoicism of the Cassiline order and the known modesty and reticence of Joscelin Verreuil, the committee has determined that the sentiments contained in the letter are of a shockingly direct turn for this particular man. ___

____

____

_Love as thou wilt._


End file.
